


Frivolous Things

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Dark Comedy, Gen, Sexism, ShinRa Science Department, don't read if you like your fiction to be morally edifying, it's Hojo POV so.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 10:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20637467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: Hojo starts his new graduate job at the Shinra Science Department, and meets his colleagues. He's very Hojo about it.





	Frivolous Things

**Author's Note:**

> Licky commented at some point that she'd be interested in seeing my take on Hojo. I went from 'i have no idea how to write hojo' to 'how would you even approach writing Hojo?' to 'I have to write Hojo'. No idea if I actually pulled it off, but it was a fun experiment.

"Ah, you found the office okay? Brilliant! Everyone, this is Hojo! He's going to be giving us an extra pair of hands on the Jenova project. Showing us how all our research methods are hopelessly antiquated, I'd imagine. Please welcome him!"

Around the room, various scientists and engineers waved and nodded. The speaker was none other than professor Gast. _The_ professor Gast.

Hojo couldn't believe he was standing mere meters from the man himself. Hojo wasn't the sort to take heroes, or idolise individual humans in general-- it was childish and just _strange_ to his mind-- but nonetheless, it felt surreal seeing Gast in person. His name was on books, his face on television; he was a character, or a feature of the landscape-- not a living, breathing person. But he was here, and he had selected _Hojo _from all the newly graduated applicants, for a spot on his team. Yes, Hojo had crafted his dissertation specifically for the purpose-- but then, how many others had done the same? And Hojo had beaten the lot of them. He supposed he was cleverer than most other people, but it was a pleasant surprise to be recognised for it. He'd always assumed he'd do well in academia and then immediately be forgotten in the 'real' world, where idiocy was revered and the famous were those who shouted the loudest and wore the least. But here he was.

His gaze drifted over the room. Five men, and one woman, who must have been chosen to make the prospectus look good. Quotas were quotas, but at least they'd stopped at one. She had brown hair, superficial earrings, and she gave him a nervous smile. He looked away, not bothering to force a smile in return. People like her brought human ugliness into a field that ought to be apolitical.

The office wasn't what he'd expected. He'd imagined something more focused, clinical and... gleaming, like a laboratory from a film. He was annoyed at himself for having an aesthetic preference; it felt weak-- but he'd been looking forward to something more...futuristic. But this space was lit with low lights under fabric lampshades, and there were beaded cushions. Probably the woman's influence. He supposed it was only the office, but it put him off. It reminded him of a student den, specifically a den for a _humanities_ student, that euphemism for 'stupid person who coveted a degree, but wasn't intellectually capable of getting one in a real subject'. The consolation-prizewinners of society. Hojo wanted to work with only the best. Although, he thought sadly, the best were long-dead. While Hojo could see the value of the scientific method, it had its limitations, and the scientists he found most inspiring were those of the 16th and 17th centuries-- bold inventors and visionaries. They'd got as much wrong as they'd got right, but the field had been able to leap forward because of their experiments. Today's slow, incremental progress might be more reliable, but it lacked the creativity, spontaneity and _energy _of that era. The scientists of the 17th century didn't wear protective goggles when investigating new chemicals. No, they just_ tasted_ them. They put their own bodily fluids under the microscope, and if they needed subjects for a new vaccine, they tested it on themselves and their families.

That was the only species of romance Hojo could endure.

He sighed, returning to the present. There was an indoor plant, in a stripy pot just like the one in his parents' living room. Hojo had avoided that room, and the entire downstairs. His parents were perfect examples of why humans should not be permitted to breed in the wild. The plant stood on a bookshelf containing a few tomes on genetics, programming, and... wait, was that a vampire romance?

Gast caught him staring. He laughed.

"We're slowly making progress on many of the mysteries of the universe, but there's no accounting for Bugen's taste." He motioned for Hojo to come over. "I'll introduce you to him in a little while."

Hojo cast his mind over the papers he'd read for his degree, trying to recall any 'Bugen'. A blank. Had he missed some esoteric paper? Or was Bugen a petty manager of some sort? He couldn't ask. First impressions were important; he didn't want to look like an ignoramus.

"He's overworked, poor devil," Gast continued. "The space launch."

Ah, so that was it. Hojo hadn't heard of him because he worked on something worthless. They had already made unmanned flights to the moon, and had collected samples. They knew what was up there: rocks. A whole pile of elements, all of which had already been discovered and catalogued on Gaia. Nothing like _Jenova_. No, there was absolutely no need to send a person, except for pointless posturing.

"Pressure tactics," said Gast, now. "They want Bugen on mako power, but he won't touch it. Religious differences. Perhaps you've come across 'lifestream'?"

Hojo couldn't believe his ears. "But that's tenth century rubbish!" He couldn't believe they'd hire someone as a_ scientist_ with such a gaping hole in his reasoning ability.

Gast smiled, looking taken aback by Hojo's zeal. "Heh, I was a little surprised the first time I heard! Though, actually, I've talked to him since-- he has a nuanced take. Our opinions differ in the places where empiricism breaks down; there's only so much you can do at that point, and if we agree on nothing else, we both think it's not worth fighting over. He's very good to talk to."

"Oh, I see," said Hojo. 'The places where empiricism breaks down'-- in other words: nonsense. Well, at least Bugen had the manners to just keep off the mako projects, instead of trying to direct them somewhere stupid. His lip curled as he remembered a news article he'd read that morning-- a three year old girl had died after her mother (it was always the mother) tried to treat her sepsis with homeopathic remedies instead of an elixir. Others had expressed dismay, but Hojo thought it was just as well that the child had been taken out of the gene pool. People died every day; if society was going to improve, individuals didn't matter; the average IQ needed to go up, and stupidity was genetic. He was excited about the possibilities Jenova grafts could supply in this area. The Ancients' starmaps suggested humanity had been intelligent, once.

"Speak of the devil!" said Gast, as an old man walked in. He had long white hair, tied back with-- a feather?!-- dark glasses and pierced ears. His labcoat was patterned with clumsy reproductions of planets and stars, that appeared to have been painted on by a child. He certainly _looked _like someone who believed in the lifestream. "Bugen, come here! This is Hojo, our new graduate! Hojo, this is Bugenhagen-- I'm the biologist, on paper, but believe me, he's our primary researcher on the effects of different chemical compounds on the human brain." Gast giggled into his moustache.

Bugenhagen extended a hand to Hojo, smiling. "Gast intends to mock-- but you know, I find that if I'm not careful, my thoughts get stuck trundling along the same well-worn tracks. It can be worthwile to illuminate new avenues."

"At gigs," said Gast.

"But of course! Sensory stimulation is an important variable!"

The two men dissolved into laughter; Gast snickered while Bugenhagen let out a wheezy 'ho, ho, hooo!'. Hojo was shocked at how childish they were. He'd met plenty of childish scientists on his degree, but he'd thought these men, at the top of their field, would understand the value of a serious space for intellectual contemplation. Instead, the top minds of Shinra were people who thought that addling their brains was both funny _and_ clever, in an office with-- good lord, was that a lava lamp?

"Get Bugen to tell you about the time he worked as a smuggler, sometime," said Gast. "He's got some stories."

Bugenhagen smiled. "You make it sound much more exciting!" He turned to Hojo. "I just moved a few fossils before the private collectors could get to them. We were nervous about being ambushed on the road, so we had a secret compartment in the truck, but we didn't account for X-rays-- Ah, but I must be getting away," he sounded apologetic. "I have meetings until 9."

Gast winced. "When are you meant to do your work? They're not leaving you any time."

"Yes, Shinra are curious like that," said Bugenhagen. "I think I can get half an hour in now-- I just came back for something important for the meetings." He stepped over to the bookshelf, picked up the vampire romance, and nodded. "Oh, and I spoke to Ifalna just now."

Gast's head jerked up. "Oh?" His voice traversed the entire range of audio frequencies.

"She had some very interesting things to say, about Jenova, and the Cetra. I really do think you should talk to her sometime about this project of yours."

Gast went red. "Is Ifalna interested in the Jenova project? I thought-- maybe I'm smallminded-- but, sales-- and she said she studied theatre--"

"It's relevant to her _family history_," said Bugenhagen, patting Gast on the head with the book, for emphasis.

"Really?" Gast's eyes widened behind his glasses. Bugenhagen smiled.

It would be years before the significance of this conversation would click in Hojo’s mind.

**Author's Note:**

> btw all my other fic premises can go home; from now on this profile is just bugen and gast hanging out with ifalna and having adventures while high


End file.
